


Dreams and Nightmares

by Clea2011



Category: Primeval
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, Character Death, Drugs, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 05:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1593428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clea2011/pseuds/Clea2011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt tries to change the future.</p><p>The pairing has no bearing on the plot - Connor/Abby fans are unlikely to enjoy it so do be warned.  This is one of my grim, non-fluffy pieces.  Also shameless trope and bingo square filling.</p><p>This was written to fill 5 prompts for Primeval Denial's bingo cards, and to fill the Trope Bingo Round 3 prompt Apocolypse au.<br/>The Denial prompts are shown as headings for each section.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams and Nightmares

# Truth Serum, truth spells and truth drugs

It probably wasn't considered right or ethical. But Matt came from a time when that wasn't a concern.

The drug was quick, clean and effective. It was a simple matter to invite Connor back for a drink, supposedly just to get to know his new team member, and then slip him the drug.

Matt watched as it started to take effect, seeing the brief confusion cross the younger man's features as he realised something was wrong.

"Talk," Matt ordered, and fired endless questions. Connor didn't seem to know the answers, didn't seem to be a threat.

It couldn't be Connor.

# Curses

Matt had felt so sure it must be Connor, but no.

Connor's ideal future consisted of geeky, foolish things. He wanted to discover what made the anomalies occur, but that was fairly minor in his plans. There was Abby, and Abby and Abby... Matt was sick of hearing about her by the end of it. Connor was like a devoted puppy. The idiot.

The serum seemed to be taking a very long time to wear off.

Matt groaned, cursing as he was forced to listen to more of it. In his world, there had been no time for such nonsense.

# It was all a dream

 

Connor felt strange when he woke. He was tired, his head ached, and his throat felt raw.

The last thing he remembered was sitting in Matt's flat and being handed a drink. After that it was all a blur. But Connor never could hold his drink.

At least Matt had been good enough to put him up for the night, covering him with a blanket and letting him sleep it off.

He'd had a strange dream, but that wasn't unusual after a few shots.

Matt appeared with toast and coffee.

"Sleep well?"

Connor nodded. He liked his new team leader.

# Sleeplessness/Insomnia

 

Connor struggled to sleep at night. There always seemed to be something there, distracting him. It felt as if he'd forgotten something important. It left him tired, susceptible to Burton's influence.

Sometimes it felt as if he hadn't slept properly in months.

\---

Matt watched Connor working with Burton. His suspicions started to grow but he couldn't risk using the drug again. Too many side-effects.

Matt couldn't sleep, furious with himself for questioning Connor too early. But he hadn't known. How could he have known? He had to wait and see what happened, then act fast.

The world depended on him.

 

# Character Death

 

Matt had always been too late. Just one step behind.

He dropped his knife and watched as Connor bled out on the floor. Too late, far too late. He should have realised after New Dawn that this was inevitable, that the young man's insatiable curiosity would innocently be the end of them all, that he'd research something else and there would be another disaster, the risk of another apocalypse. He should have put a stop to Connor earlier, as soon as he'd realised how unpredictable the young man was.

It was over for Matt now, anyway. Becker was in the doorway, his face twisted in grief and fury, his gun raised.   Becker was too late as well.

"You bastard!"

The first shot got him in the arm, and Matt knew Becker wasn't going to make it quick. He braced himself for the next shot, pain radiating from the first, blood pouring down his arm. But the second shot never came.

"No." Lester was pale, ragged, a shadow of his former self. But he still had the power to command his people, the respect that even now, even here, they would always show him. "Don't kill him. That would be a kindness."

Becker hesitated, and Matt knew he wanted to do it. But then he lowered his gun and dropped to his knees beside Connor, reaching for him. Becker, it seemed, could cry.

"Get out," he hissed. "Or I'll tear you apart with my bare hands."

Matt didn't doubt it. He looked away as he left, anywhere but at Connor's lifeless body. Towards the blown-out window of their shelter where the barren, wasted landscape stretched out into the distance.

His arm hung broken and useless, agonising at his side. Out there, without shelter, injured, weaponless and with the stench of blood on him it wouldn't take very long for something to find him.

Or, given his luck, perhaps it would.


End file.
